


i think we've been here before (a familiar zone)

by far2late



Series: drifting away [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Anxiety, Depression, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Poor Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:27:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29037015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/far2late/pseuds/far2late
Summary: "Besides, he had thought, stepping off the bridge and onto rocky netherrack, making sure not to jostle the bundle in his arms. He had more important things to focus on rather than his tragic past with the government.The teen had yet to shift in his arms, save for the shaking that seemed nonstop. Techno frowned, concerned as he maneuvered his way to the cobblestone path that Tommy had built ages ago, leading to his somewhat hidden Nether portal back to the Overworld. He pulled up the cape around Ranboo’s face higher, glad that the cape he wore had a furry collar so his face wouldn’t freeze."orranboo's first night back with phil and techno. it doesn't go very well.
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: drifting away [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130207
Comments: 93
Kudos: 1363
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	i think we've been here before (a familiar zone)

**Author's Note:**

> twt is far2early i write there sometimes :)

Techno’s footsteps were slow and heavy as he made his way through the Nether, the heat engulfing him from all sides. He could feel the waves of warmth come up from the lava under his feet, boots making them uncomfortably warm as the cobble and obsidian he walked on made small clicks every time they hit the steel toe of his boots. 

The bundle he held in his arms had been passed out, Ranboo still shivering in his arms despite the heat and the cape that had been wrapped around him. The teen had his face pressed into the man’s neck, arms wrapped around his shoulders loosely as they shook against his body. Techno had curled him up in the cape and held him up in his arms, marching back to the tundra where Phil would be waiting to see if their hunch was right. 

Techno had noticed that the teen disappeared a while ago, only noticing when it had been about a week without any contact from him. It was impossible to find the hybrid anywhere, the two of them searching absently at first before dedicating time to the activity itself. It became a quick habit of theirs to go looking every Sunday, around two pm each time. The half-and-half head of hair that Techno had grown accustomed to, however, never popped up. 

He considered asking the L’manberg citizens where he went, but it was easy enough to see that they didn’t care all that much, not with everything else that was going on. Tommy and Tubbo were practically impossible to catch, the two of them preparing for their inevitable fight with Dream that would determine the outcome of the stupid disk war that had led Tommy to betray him in the first place. 

He ignored his biases at the time, searching for Ranboo in enemy territory with little concern for his own well-being if it meant that he could find the hybrid teen he had grown fond of well and whole, probably lost or something. It was a bit too easy to compare his memory to Ghostbur’s, especially after the ghost started showing up less and less, as though he hadn’t existed in the first place. 

Ranboo was similar to Tommy and Wilbur in little places where it probably wouldn’t have been obvious; he was alike to Wilbur in the sense of how little trust he was willing to place in people and the soft but low voice that he had, comforting when spoken in a confident timbre that had begun to show up more around both him and Phil. 

He was alike to Tommy in the way that Ranboo had been everything that Tommy had been when he had first come to his cabin. Twitchy, scared, flighty, and quiet. It was easy enough to see that for Tommy it wasn’t natural, while for Ranboo it was second nature that came with suppressing everything about himself that made him different so that other people would feel more comfortable in his presence. 

  
Techno could relate to the teen in that sense, he figured, with how he had been anxious to hide his hybrid features. Techno spent a long time putting in coloured contacts and growing out his hair to hide pointed ears he would rather not get sliced up in combat. It was a problem he hadn’t even considered until he had met Phil for the first time, the man pointing it out to him when they had downtime and grown closer over the course of them ruling over the Antarctic Empire. 

  
The time for then was long gone, as was Techno’s fascination with government and monarchy that he had once been willing to entertain and explore in detail. All he had left of then was the crown he wore on his head and the cape he had worn the rest of the time. It had become a part of his image, he couldn’t just take the cape off now. That and it was incredibly soft. 

Besides, he had thought, stepping off the bridge and onto rocky netherrack, making sure not to jostle the bundle in his arms. He had more important things to focus on rather than his tragic past with the government. 

The teen had yet to shift in his arms, save for the shaking that seemed nonstop. Techno frowned, concerned as he maneuvered his way to the cobblestone path that Tommy had built ages ago, leading to his somewhat hidden Nether portal back to the Overworld. He pulled up the cape around Ranboo’s face higher, glad that the cape he wore had a furry collar so his face wouldn’t freeze. 

He stepped into the portal, feeling the pull and push of magic as violet particles swirled around him until he saw nothing but blackness, quickly throwing all the colour back into his vision as he appeared in the Overworld, by the beach and ice as he usually was when he came back into that realm. Techno didn’t stop to wait for the effects of the portal to wear off, making his way over the hill and trekking to the small spruce cabin he shared with Phil as fast as possible. 

He hadn’t risked asking for a stasis pearl, despite how helpful it might have been in any other case. Techno had no idea what state Ranboo would be in when he went in on his rescue mission, so he didn’t dare try and do anything that would mess with the teen anymore than he had already been through. It was natural for Techno to assume that the worst would have happened if he hadn’t heard from the teen in two and a half months, he had justified when confronted with his pessimism by Phil. 

Phil was probably worried sick, Techno thought, speeding up as he saw the speck of his spruce home in the distance, the beacon lighting up the air behind it as though it were a lighthouse to help him get back to shore. It was a fair comparison, in retrospect, but it felt a bit too much like a mockery. Like he was being called out for feeling as though he was struggling to stay afloat in a dark ocean of water when he had others to look for and care for. Like he had been drowning above ground with lungs that didn’t want to hold the weight of his sins. 

He knew it wasn’t his fault, Techno knew that. But he couldn’t help think that he could’ve helped out in some other way. If he wasn’t too prideful to ask anyone where he went, despite knowing he hadn’t  _ found  _ anyone else to help him besides Phil. 

Techno sped up once more as he made his way down the muddy hill, snow floating to the ground as he heard the door open before he even got to the stairs, stomping as he made his way up to his porch in an attempt to clear his feet of slush and snow while Phil held open the door. 

“Is that-” Techno cut off the man before he could speak anymore, not wanting to wait. 

“Yes,” He said, pushing past him with little remorse. “And he’s hurt. Badly. Can you get the medical stuff? Potions, stitches, just… everything.” 

Phil nodded at the words, making his way downstairs as Techno cleared off the dining table, ignoring the lack of hygiene in the action for the sake of saving time and being near a sink that could prove helpful. It was long enough to fit the teen, anyway, slowly unwrapping him as he set the teen down on the length of it. Even Techno couldn’t hold back a wince as he saw the state of him, heart aching in a way that he hated. 

The teen’s face was practically covered in burns, making his skin peel in an ugly way that was unnatural to look at, let alone experience. His hands and arms were bloody, the paler parts of his skin dirtier than the rest. There were bruises visible on the expanse of his skin, yellowing and purple masses that spread to beneath his clothes, tattered and torn. 

The first thing would be to clean him off, Techno stated in his mind, going off of muscle memory as he turned on the sink and filled a bowl with warm water, grabbing a clean cloth from nearby as Ranboo breathed slowly on the table, breaths quiet yet hitting him like a battering ram in the silent home. 

Techno turned back to him as the bowl finished filling up, setting it on the table near his head and dipping the cloth into it for a moment before wringing it out as much as he could before letting it touch his skin. He could faintly remember the teen mentioning how it only hurt him if it was for too long or too much at a time, so he was hoping this would work. Techno didn’t want to experiment on him now, but with how much blood and dirt had built up, he needed the distinction between wounds and what was cosmetic. 

He started with the teen’s arms first, wiping gently at the trickle of dried blood that was glued to his pale skin. Techno looked back up at Ranboo as he did, shoulders sagging in relief when he noticed that the teen hadn’t shaken himself awake in a throe of yelling and panicking as he did so. Techno felt oddly gentle as he worked on cleaning the teen off, Phil making his way back upstairs with what Techno had asked for. 

He couldn’t be more thankful for Phil, the man coming up to grab a small stool that went up to about waist-height and using it as a small table for the medical equipment, the man digging through the white box as Techno continued wiping him down with the tenderest care he could provide. He wasn’t well-versed in hybrids, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him while he was already vulnerable. 

  
Phil seemed to have sensed his mood, not asking about what had happened as he aided Techno in checking on his injuries, feeling around his head for any bumps that he might find, or tender spots that hadn’t been noticed. The man was satisfied when he found nothing, Techno finishing up with his face and arms when helping the teen get clean. His skin was grimey, hair greasy and clumping together. Techno grimaced, knowing that the cleanly hybrid wouldn’t have been happy with the state he was in now. 

Ranboo shifted slightly as Techno’s hands brushed over the cuts that were welling up with blood once more on the paler arm, reaching out to get gauze pads and bandages to wrap around his thin limb. With a plummeting heart, Techno could see how malnutrition was starving him to nothing but skin and bones, as though he wasn’t enough of a skeleton enough. 

  
One step away from death and he was practically a living one. Techno didn’t dwell on the thought for too long. 

Phil and Techno worked in sync for another couple of minutes, making it to half an hour before they had decided to carefully flip him over and check for injuries. Ranboo, in the meantime, had gotten covered in bandages on his arms and fingers and hands, his foot in a cast with a shattered ankle that would need resetting before they could feed him anything close to a health potion. Phil had settled for regen in the meantime, adding a sleeping one into the mix in the case he would awaken during their less than pleasant examination. 

Before they flipped him over, Phil took out a pair of scissors from the box, carefully cutting the shirt off of him so they wouldn’t jostle and wounds. Neither of the pair could hold back a wince as they saw the state of his abdomen and chest. 

It was bruised as well, little mottled patches of white showing nearly completely yellowed bruises that were only just fading away properly, ribs showing through the skin-tight hold his flesh had on his bones. The teen’s chest rose and fell slowly, almost too slowly if they weren’t confronted with the fact that he had been stuck in a little obsidian box for two and a half months. 

The thought made Techno angry, so he ignored it in favour of making sure he would be nothing but gentle with the teen that looked like he had gone through hell lying on his dining table. Techno frowned as he saw what looked like bites and scratches on the upper parts of his chest, bruising handprints on his upper arms where Phil was gently applying the cream. 

  
Techno joined him in the activity, careful to rub it into his skin as slowly as possible in case he underestimate his strength once more and be too forceful with the teen. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him more than he was now. 

The two finished with the front side, slowly bringing him up to flip him over, the teen jerking in his grip almost automatically. Techno paused quickly, making sure that Ranboo was still asleep before he hesitantly continued after exchanging a look with Phil. 

Once he was turned over, shirt slipping off of him in the process, Techno found it all-too-clear why the teen had been afraid of his touch, even in his sleep. 

The crisscrossed lashings that made their mark on his back were nothing short of cruel and inhumane. It was medieval, what was shown on the expanse of what used to be smooth skin, only mottled in black and white patches of skin replaced with angry red markings that showed nothing but unjust anger and punishment. 

Techno was angry, fury burning in his limbs as Phil’s shaking hands worked to grab at antiseptic to clean away the blood that had dried and curled over the lip of the scars. Some of them were still bleeding, Techno’s vision red as his hands worked to fix the problem mechanically, featherlight when coming in contact with the hybrid’s skin. 

  
As though the teen could feel it, he tensed under the touch that came with each brush of the hand, gentle or not. Phil’s hand would drift to his head of hair, gently working his fingers through it as he struggled to get his shaky hands to still. They did eventually, but the anger never faded from Techno’s eyes once, replacing worry in the way he usually did when he had little idea of how to react to the situation at hand. 

Techno’s fingers must have brushed over a particularly painful wound as he makes careful work of wrapping Ranboo up, the teen jolting where he was lying with eyes that were suddenly wide open and pupils cut into slits. There was about a moment of complete silence as his unseeing eyes flit over the rest of them, trying to make sense of the room before screaming.

Phil tried to get his attention, a hand settling down on his shoulder in the grounding way he had learned from episodes like this from Wilbur and Tommy alike. The teen thrashed under the touch, shrieks escaping him as Phil crouched down quickly to try and get his attention. 

“Ranboo, Ranboo, it’s okay, it’s just me and Techno, it’s okay-” He was cut off by a low sob, cutting through the room with a sharp-tipped knife as Techno drew his hands back, making sure he wasn’t anywhere too close to the teen as he shook, struggling to sit upon the table. 

“No, ple-please, I don’t, no,  _ no no no,  _ anything, I’ll do anything, I- Please, please please please please,” Ranboo begged, hiccups bruising his voice as he tried to plead for his life and Phil slowly took the teen’s hands in his. He didn’t dare try and restrain the hybrid, only letting him squeeze the life out of his hands as he shook violently, keeled over his knees with his legs pulled up to his chest. 

  
Phil was whispering to him, trying to reassure Ranboo as the teen squeezed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath endlessly. It’s a scene that Techno couldn’t tear his eyes away from, something akin to horror creeping under his skin as he saw the teen he had considered something close to a friend curled up in a ball of tears and hurt and bruises and scars that don’t look like they’ll ever fade, despite the bruises that were yellowing already. 

Ranboo eventually tired himself out, slumping against Phil’s body as the man held him up, carefully moving the teen back to how he had been lying on the table before. The man looked up to Techno, concerned as he reached out a hand. 

“Techno-” 

  
“After we help him,” Techno interrupted, voice shaking slightly. “Not now. Just… not now.” The man nodded in response, and the cabin returned to its deathly silence as bandages were secured across Ranboo’s back where the markings were still visible. The ointment was carefully used to clean the rest of them and cream was applied to the worse of the scars, older and seemingly burned into his back. 

It took a long half-hour of them cleaning him up and getting the teen into bed before Techno is anywhere near close enough to consider speaking to Phil, even though he knew the man was just as upset as he was. Ranboo’s thin frame laid under thick blankets on Techno’s bed, the man resolving to stay up in a vigil by his bedside. He pulled the covers up to this chin, layering another blanket on top of his body in an attempt to keep him warm before taking a seat on the couch closest to the room, no space inside for the two of them to sit.

Phil took a seat on the couch by him, sitting up before his shoulders slumped over, the man exhausted. Techno laid back on the couch, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms as he cursed under his breath. Techno can hear the question coming before it’s asked, and he didn’t blame Phil for it. 

“What happened?” He asked, Techno sucking in a breath through his teeth as he sighed slowly, rubbing his face. His hands fidgeted with themselves in his lap as he recalled the mid-evening lull of events that led him to where he was now. 

“They were all parading Dream back to that big prison,” Techno started, gaining a surprised noise from Phil as the man shifted to sit up, interested. 

“Apparently, there was… A big thing happening. With Tommy and Tubbo’s disk war. And they had prepared this whole… whole final stand-off thing with Dream for the disks since he had both. And they were losing before all of L’manberg and the server showed up to stop Dream from, from killing Tubbo? Or something like that. I didn’t pay much attention.” Techno sucked in a short breath, rage filtering into his eyes as he tried to keep his voice low and under control. 

  
“So, I saw them coming. From a bit away. And I decided to ask them what had happened, and they told me, yeah? And Sam just-” Techno cut himself off, raising his fist in a jolt as though he was ready to slam it into the arm of the couch before taking in a shuddering breath and letting it out of his nose slowly as he lowered it. 

“He said,” Techno spoke through gritted teeth. “That he’ll have to, ‘move Ranboo out of the maximum-security cell so there was space for Dream.’” 

Phil shifted next to him, the silence in the room cutting. “You mean that-” 

“He was in that vault for God knows how long and for no good reason! No reason at all! There was- was no reason for him to be there, let alone maximum security! Put on the same level as Dream for- for fucking nothing!” Techno burst, voice irate and growing in volume gradually as he continued on in his angered rant. 

“Did they say who did all that shit to him? What happened in there, anything?” Phil asked, a hand on Techno’s forearm as the man shook his head, running a hand through his loose hair in an attempt to calm down, mask long gone in favour of sitting down and relaxing his weary bones. 

“No. But Sam runs that prison and as far as I know, it was Dream who put Ranboo in there. Would’ve murdered him if he wasn’t already down two lives ‘cause of Tommy.” Despite the anger that the words hold, there was still a swell of pride that Techno squished down, ignoring the blond and how similar this situation was to when he had first found him under his house. 

“So Dream’s gone for a good while now, yeah?” Phil asked, leaning back on the couch. Techno took the opposite approach, standing and pacing slowly around the room as he wiped his mouth with one hand, stopping in the middle of the room and nodding at the question. 

  
“Yeah, yeah. I… Phil.” Techno said, almost pleadingly as he looked up to the man. Phil hummed knowingly, reaching out a hand to the man as Techno took it, lacing his fingers into his as he squeezed, taking deep and slow breaths. 

“He wasn’t supposed to get hurt, Phil,” Techno said, voice weak as he spoke. 

“I know, Techno.” 

“I was supposed to  _ protect  _ him, Phil.” His voice grew insistent. 

“You did your best to, Techno.” Phil’s thumb rubbed circles into his hand. 

“My best wasn’t enough.” 

“You aren’t perfect, Techno. You and I did all we could, yeah? We have to focus on Ranboo now. Not our mistakes.” Techno’s face twisted, turning away from Phil’s view to face Ranboo’s bed, sniffling quietly as his free hand came up to his face to wipe at it gently, trying to rid himself of tears that wouldn’t stop coming in silent bursts. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay-” Techno shook Phil’s hand off in a wave, voice loathing as he spoke and tone bitter. 

“It’s not  _ okay! _ ” Techno snapped, scrubbing at his face non-stop. “We- I failed him. I  _ failed  _ him. He’s- that’s my fault, Phil! That’s my fault! I did that to him!” 

  
Phil got up after, a hand resting on his shoulder as he turned Techno to face him, the man looking down at Phil with teary eyes as he wiped at them with a gentle hand. 

“Were you the one to put him in there?” Phil didn’t wait for an answer. “Were you the one to hurt him? Did you raise a hand to him, did you harm him, did you leave him in there with nothing? All you’ve done since you found out what happened is help him, Techno.” 

Techno huffed, turning his face away from Phil to wipe his face once more, a large sleeve blocking part of his face from view. 

“You’re far too hard on yourself, Techno,” Phil whispered. “You have to learn how to accept help, yeah?” 

Techno nodded, but the message didn’t go to his heart. All he could think of was Ranboo’s terrified eyes as he thrashed on their table, trying to get away from whatever he thought was hurting him. He had never acted that way, despite all the anxiety he had built up over the time he had been at Techno’s home. He didn’t think he would ever forget the terror in the teen’s soul, consuming him whole. 

Nothing else really registered, the man sitting down at the couch once more as Phil joined him, the two of them silent where they sat in vigil. Snow pattered against the window and hail bounced off the roof, everything that Techno ignored. 

All that he could focus on was the pain and guilt of watching Ranboo’s frail body try to hold itself up from its previous home of harm and blood. All he could think of was how he could have done better, and he wished he was good enough for Phil and Ranboo as he squeezed his eyes shut to avoid another onslaught of tears. 

**Author's Note:**

> i speedran this and im speedrunning this note enjoy comment tell me what to do for the next part BYEE


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